


Too Many Seconds in a Year

by ringelchen



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Community: hp_goldenage, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Explicit Sexual Content, Falling In Love, Getting Together, Harry Potter Epilogue Compliant, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child Compliant, M/M, Misunderstandings, Pining, Side pairing: Albus Severus Potter/Scorpius Malfoy, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-09
Updated: 2020-03-09
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:53:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22957462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ringelchen/pseuds/ringelchen
Summary: After running away from their feelings for long enough, Harry and Draco finally come face to face again at their sons' wedding.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 18
Kudos: 237
Collections: Salt and Pepper Fest 2020





	Too Many Seconds in a Year

**Author's Note:**

> I loved writing this fic so huge thanks to the prompter! I was actually going to make it way shorter but then I kept having so many ideas and the story got longer and longer… and here we are. And, yes, right, I changed the prompt a bit by making Albus and Scorpius the ones to get married because, come on, what more do we all want than a world in which Drarry as well as Scorbus are together? Am I right? Anyway, I hope you have fun reading! Thanks a lot to my beta dexiha for bearing with me on such short notice. You are an angel!

They were watching their sons exchange vows, rings and then kisses, when their eyes met across the crowded room again, as they had countless times since the ceremony had started. Each time was only a fleeting moment, a quick second that should have been meaningless. But they weren't. As none of them had been during the past 30 years. 

People were shouting congratulations, applauding the newlywed couple as they held and kissed each other for a tad too long, in Draco’s opinion, but he wouldn't say anything. This was their day and not one to ponder about his relationship with one Harry Potter. So he kept clapping. Kept glancing towards Harry, once every few minutes. Draco was counting the seconds until he could look at him again without it seeming too suspicious. 118, 119, 120. Another glance and, as usual, Harry was looking back at him. 

Irritated, Draco forced his gaze back to Scorpius and Albus who were still kissing and people were starting to laugh at the youngsters who couldn't keep their hands off each other.

"And they're not even the most obvious lovebirds in the room," Daphne said from beside him and Draco looked at her small smirk in fake wonder. "Oh, don't even pretend! I know what you’re like when you're in love. You act nonchalant but your whole body gets all tense whenever you look at him."

Draco swallowed, the cheerful expression he had directed at his son never faltering, though. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"I'm talking about how you keep looking over to Harry Potter every 120 seconds." She must have seen shock in his eyes because she went on to say, "Imagine, Draco, I too can count."

This was why he hadn't married her, Draco thought at that moment. Their parents had tried to set them up but Daphne had always been this insufferable as well as able to read what Draco didn't want _anybody_ —sometimes even including himself—to know: his deepest thoughts. And then the cow would have the nerve to confront him about it. His late wife Astoria, bless her heart, had had the same talent but she'd never been as tactless as her sister. Why the Greengrass sisters had such a power over him, Draco didn't know. But he did know that whatever Daphne was trying to tell him right now it was something Draco didn't want to hear. _Couldn't_ hear, because if somebody said it out loud it would become real, and Draco had not spent most of his life pretending there wasn't something between him and Harry just so Daphne could ruin it with one sentence. 

"It's your nephew's wedding, Daphne. Let's focus on him instead of your insane allegations, shall we?" He was being harsh, he knew that, but sometimes that was the only way to reach her. 

Daphne’s eyebrows pulled together, her annoyance clear. "Suit yourself," she sassed before she walked off towards the happy couple. Apparently, the ceremony was over and with the two boys finally having stopped their indecent display of affection, they were accepting hugs and kisses from friends and family. 

Harry was already in the crowd, hugging his son, pressing a kiss to his forehead, when Draco reached them as well.

"Congratulations, my boy," Draco said with a soft smile and Scorpius laughed happily as he hugged his father. Draco closed his eyes, breathing in the familiar scent of his baby boy mixed with cologne and the smell of the expensive fabric of his new Wizarding dinner jacket. Scorpius was whispering in his ear, "I'm so happy," when Draco opened his eyes again. 

Once more, Harry was looking at him. He was just standing there, watching Draco.

Draco's smile faltered and his arms around his son became a little slack as he saw Harry lick his bottom lip and then look away.

_Fuck._

"Are you alright?" Scorpius asked his father and Draco finally looked back at him.

"Of course," he lied, patting his son's back with a hand. "I'm so proud of you." He meant that part and, though Scorpius knew that, smiling back at his dad softly, he saw a spark of recognition in his son's eyes when he turned around and saw Harry standing there with the other Potters, all of them turned towards Albus. His arm was on Ginny's hip now, holding her to his side as they wished their son happiness for a lifetime. 

Something in Draco suddenly felt cold and dull.

"Dad," Scorpius started and then his eyes were filled with understanding, "There is nothing between them anymore. They've been divorced for years."

Obviously, Draco knew that, but hearing his son say those words while looking at Draco with pity in his eyes somehow came as such a shock that Draco almost stumbled when he took a shaky step back.

Was he really this obvious? When he'd tried so hard to hide his feelings for the longest time? He'd thought that he'd become almost professional at it. Lucius had taught him the Malfoy poker face as a child, after all. 

"Dad, it's okay," Scorpius stepped forward and quickly closed the distance that Draco had unconsciously made between them in an attempt to keep running away from his feelings. Now Scorpius' hands were on Draco's shoulders, reassuring. "I don't mind. _We_ don't mind."

"Who is 'we'?" Draco asked in panic. It was bad enough that Daphne and Scorpius apparently knew.

"Albus and me." 

When Draco glanced towards his son's husband, he found Harry standing next to him still, looking back at Draco. Eyes strong and fixed only on him when they should be on his son.

It was as though there was something between them that always made them look at each other at the same time. Or maybe, Draco realised when he allowed himself to look at Harry for longer than just a second, the reason he kept catching Harry’s eyes was that they were just _always_ on him. More often than just every 120 seconds. 

But that couldn’t be. Harry had had his chance.

Sighing, Draco explained, "There is a lot of history between us. You don’t know everything that has happened with Harry and me and he’s made it quite clear that he doesn’t want—"

Scorpius stopped him by putting a hand on his chest. "Dad, I know more than I ever wanted to know," he whispered with a small, troubled smile on his face that quickly turned into an amused grin. "When he invited us to dinner the other day, Harry told Albus and me everything that happened between you and him at Percy’s birthday party."

Blinking rapidly, Draco only had to add two and two together to realise what that meant. "So you know that Harry and I slept together?"

“Yes, Dad, I know. I also know where and how it happened, how long it took, which position, who was top and who bottom—”

“Oh god, okay, thank you, that’s quite enough,” Draco breathed out shakily and held a hand to his forehead. This time when he searched for Harry’s eyes, he couldn’t find them immediately because Harry had moved to the other side of the room, but when he did, Draco’s eyes were piercing. 

How could he have told them?

“Don’t be angry at Harry, Dad. He was drunk and you know how he starts talking when he’s had too much to drink.”

“I know,” Draco chided, his face still hidden in his hands in shame because he couldn’t believe his son knew and he didn’t even want to imagine how _much_. 

Draco guessed it might have been 120 seconds again, so he looked past Scorpius' shoulders towards Harry, who was also just turning to glance at Draco, finally a hint of worry on the other man’s face as he probably realised that Draco knew that he’d told their sons about the one time they’d fucked, after which Harry had started avoiding him.

“Whatever he’s told you, it didn’t mean anything. Since that party, he’s been ignoring me. He doesn’t want—”

Scorpius made an annoyed sound before he slapped his dad against the chest softly and said in a strong voice, “But Dad! He wants!”

Draco’s toes were starting to curl in his shoes at the thought that that might be true, but common sense made him shake his head in denial and watch his son sigh at his reaction.

"Dad, listen," Scorpius started. He looked amused, of all things. "You have plenty of time to talk to Harry later, but let’s make this moment about me and Albus again, okay?” He stretched out his arms, waiting for another congratulatory hug, so Draco pushed away the nagging thoughts in his head about Harry sodding Potter and squeezed his son so hard, Scorpius must have felt as if he'd pop.

◊ ◊ ◊

When Draco first noticed his attraction towards Harry Potter, he didn’t believe it immediately. He was in his early twenties, already engaged to Astoria and it had been three years since he had last seen Harry—if you didn't count the countless times his face had been plastered all over the Wizarding newspapers. Draco hadn't really thought about him in a long time either, but then, while Draco and his fiancé were sitting in a small café on the coast of Levanzo, Draco looked towards the track by the sea and saw Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley walk hand in hand along the beach. Harry was only wearing a pair of white swimming trunks that cut off right in the middle of his shockingly muscular thighs and, when their eyes met, though there was a good distance between them, Harry stopped in his tracks. Ginny was forced to stop as well and it only took her seconds to see what distressed her boyfriend so. She pulled her hand up in a silent greeting.

"I guess they also thought they could escape the press by coming here," Astoria chuckled from beside him, waved her hand at them with a smile and then continued to engage a completely bewildered Draco—who up until that point, had never in his life felt anything other than hate or horror when seeing Harry Potter—in conversation about Venice, their next stop on their little tour through Italy. 

Since that fateful sunny afternoon at the beach, Draco hadn't been able to forget Harry. At first he'd been sure that whatever he was feeling for him was purely sexual because, let's face it, Harry had turned into an unforgivingly stunning specimen of a man with his dark caramel-coloured skin, thick black locks and piercing green eyes. Draco found himself wanking to the image of Harry a lot and, though it had been weird at first, he quickly accepted the fact that he must simply be attracted to Harry’s type. After all, there was nothing about Harry’s personality that could possibly attract Draco. It _must_ be purely physical.

Or so he thought until a few years later, when he met Harry at the hospital and Draco, at that point, was already married to Astoria, with their son Scorpius only a few weeks away from joining their small family.

"Your second?" Draco asked and looked down at the bundle in Harry's arms. The baby was sleeping, a bit of drool running down his cheek. Draco smiled and stretched out a hand to wipe it away with his thumb. 

He felt Harry watch him throughout all of it. "Yes. His name is Albus Severus."

Draco's face made that little thing it always did when he heard something he disliked. His mouth opened a little and his nostrils flared and Harry burst into laughter.

"Honestly, that was the best reaction I’ve seen yet," Harry said and pressed the sleepy boy a bit more snugly to his chest. "Ginny was crying earlier,saying how Al is going to hate us for giving him not one but two horribly old names."

"Then why did she agree to it?" Draco asked, his heart pounding at the display of Harry Potter looking as happy as he'd never seen him before. It made him a little uncomfortable but Draco ignored it, as he usually did unwelcome feelings.

"Well, we each picked out a name we wanted for our child and then let the family decide with a vote which name was better."

"And _you_ won?" Draco said with a hint of disbelief in his voice. "What name could possibly be worse than _Albus Severus_?"

Harry smirked then, knowingly, as if he knew exactly that what he was about to say would blow Draco's mind. 

"Karl Maximus." His smirk turned even wider as he watched Draco's unapproving expression, "After her two favourite Quidditch players Karl Broadmoor and Maximus Brankovich III."

Baffled, Draco just shook his head and watched Harry laugh at his reaction again.

"Well, why are you even here, Malfoy? Isn't your wife only due next month?"

One of his brows pulled up in wonder, "How do you know that?"

"I hear things," Harry said mysteriously, but then added in a rather tired voice, "Pansy and my wife are friends now."

"That explains it,” Draco exclaimed and they both chuckled at the shared knowledge that Pansy couldn’t keep anything to herself.

"Actually, I am here to pick up some potions for Astoria. The pregnancy is—" he paused, not wanting to reveal how much of a toll it was actually taking on her health. How devastated Draco was by the thought that the birth of their child might be the day that Astoria... "—a little hard on my wife. She's a very frail woman. Probably got something to do with all the inbreeding of the purebloods and all that." He was trying to cover up the seriousness of the situation with humour, but surprisingly only found Harry staring at him with wide eyes at his comment. “It's a joke, Potter."

"I got that. I just didn't know you made jokes like that."

"Well, you don't know me very well at all, do you?" There was a small teasing smile on Draco's lips that faltered when he watched Harry look at him in a way he didn't think he'd ever looked at him before. In surprised wonder—and not the bad kind either.

"I guess not."

There was a moment of awkward silence that was broken by Albus starting to bawl and Harry rocking him left and right in an attempt to sooth him back to sleep.

"I better get going. Ginny is gonna think I ran off with this little one."

"Right," Draco said and nodded, moving to the side to give Potter space to walk past him. 

"I guess our kids will start Hogwarts together. Maybe they'll become best mates," Harry laughed as he walked away and smiled—that smile hitting Draco right in the chest as he watched Harry walk off without another word of goodbye. Draco stayed back, eyes fixed on him.

"Crazier things have happened."

◊ ◊ ◊

The next time they really talked to each other was at Astoria's funeral. Albus had brought his whole family to mourn his best friend's mother's passing and Harry was the only one who actually smiled at Draco that day.

"I was right," he said as he stopped next to Draco right by the fireplace at the Manor where family pictures and their wedding photo stood. It had been one of the happiest days of his life.

"Pardon?" Draco hadn't exchanged a single word with Harry the whole day, so he had no idea what he could possibly mean.

"Our sons. They ended up becoming best mates. Just like I said the day Albus was born." Harry looked at Draco now, pointedly, as if he couldn't believe he didn't immediately know what he meant. "We talked at St Mungos that day, remember?"

Of course, Draco remembered. He'd kept thinking back to that day the past few years. Back to the way his heart had almost jumped out of his chest at Harry's laugh. He'd felt so guilty for having those feelings for another man when he should have been feeling that way towards his wife. Whom he had loved with all his heart, of course. No, not _had_. Still loved and always would. 

His eyes were burning when he looked away from Harry again and at the smiling face of his deceased wife in the picture they'd taken last Christmas, with Scorpius and Draco in matching Christmas jumpers.

"I remember. Excuse me if I have other things on my mind right now."

Draco expected Harry to apologise, but surprisingly he didn't. He also didn't look like he felt embarrassed about turning the attention away from his wife's death when they were at her memorial service right that moment.

"Albus talks about Scorpius all the time. It reminds me of Teddy when he got his first girlfriend or James when he started dating last year."

His voice was calm though his eyebrows were furrowed a bit and Draco—had he not been so tired from countless sleepless nights and a lot of crying—would have probably done a better job of analysing that reaction. Instead he said,

"I'm glad Scorpius has someone who cares about him at school." He looked over at his son, who was sitting in Draco's armchair in the corner or the room with Albus draped over the chair arm and his own arm slung tightly around Scorpius' shoulders. "I don't want him to be alone. Everything is much harder when you are on your own."

"Don't worry. Albus is furiously loyal. He'll stick with Scorpius through thick and thin."

Draco smiled at that and was sure Harry was right when he saw Albus' expression as he looked at his friend crying. Pained but also... determined.

"I hope you are right." 

There was a small pause before Harry said eagerly, "Listen, why don't you and Scorpius come over more often during the hols? I know the kids would love it. And, you know, the two of us, we could also grab a pint every now and then—"

"That's a very nice offer, Potter, but I don't think so." Draco was feeling Potter's effect on him again and today of all days was not one during which he wanted to have to think about that. All he wanted was to remember Astoria. The good times with her. Their love. He wasn’t ready for his heart to beat like this again. 

Trying to be a good host, however, he told him, “Thanks for coming," before he watched Harry sigh and he turned to leave the room.

◊ ◊ ◊

After the whole ‘Delphini Diggory’ debacle, it didn't take long for Albus and Scorpius to start dating. And with their kids being furiously in love with each other, so much that they couldn’t even handle being apart during the holidays for more than a week, Draco ended up seeing Harry a lot for a while there. 

The Malfoys would get invited to BBQs and Quidditch games during the summer and tree decoratings, Christmas Eve and New Years parties during the winter. And then, whenever the kids were at school, Harry would send Draco the occasional owl to meet him or him and his friends for dinner or a beer, but most of the time Draco refused. As much as he'd grown fond of them, there was still something always there that made it impossible for Draco to feel like he could ever be part of their little group. Especially seeing that he had feelings for one of them who was married to another woman. 

After Astoria's death, Draco hadn't let himself feel anything new for anyone for years but with seeing Harry more often and inevitably growing closer to him, old feelings had started to resurface again. Or maybe even grow stronger than they’d ever been.

"Draco, can I ask you something personal?" Harry asked that one evening when Draco had agreed to meet the Golden Trio for dinner, but Ron and Hermione had already left.

Harry was a little tipsy and Draco knew that whenever Harry drank too much, he started making suggestive comments. Draco was about to say that he'd rather Harry not ask the question he wanted to, but apparently Draco's initial silence was read as agreement because Harry went on to ask:

"When was the last time you had sex?" 

Draco almost spat out his drink. He'd expected much, had heard a lot of rather uncomfortable questions from Drunk Harry, but never something like this.

"For me it's been," he paused and took a huge gulp of his beer before he spat out laughing, "three goddamn years."

Surprised at that, Draco turned towards Harry. who was still laughing, but now looking at Draco as though he wanted to see his reaction.

"But you and Ginny get along so well," Draco said utterly confused. He had heard that a lot of long-time couples lose their spark with the years but he'd never expected Harry and Ginny to be one of them. They appeared to be so… happy.

"We do, we really do!" He had stopped laughing and was looking at his empty pint now. "She's my best friend. Honestly. I love her to bits but—"

"But?" Draco asked and saw something weird happening to Harry's face. As if, as he was saying it, he was realising what the real problem was.

"I guess I love her a different way now than I did years ago."

That night Draco watched Harry quietly come to terms with the fact that he'd fallen out of love with Ginny. That Ginny had probably also fallen out of love with Harry, and while sobs started to bubble out of the grown man, Draco sat next to him, a soothing hand on his shoulder.

It was well into the middle of the night and they had already drifted off to a completely different subject when Draco finally decided to answer Harry's question from earlier.

"A month. Maybe 5 weeks."

"Huh?" Harry asked, a bit more sober than he'd been when he'd asked the question hours ago. After all, Draco had refused to buy him any more alcoholic drinks.

"Since I've last had sex," Draco replied and Harry seemed surprised that they had gone back to that subject.

"So," Harry started, licking his lips unconsciously, "you're seeing someone?"

Draco coughed. "No."

Harry looked confused, as if the concept of casual sex and hookups wasn't something he was familiar with. But Draco didn't say anymore and after a while Harry must have got it because he just said,

"I see," and it sounded almost sad?

"My wife and I, however," Draco said, feeling brave. He'd never talked about this with anybody before. Out of respect to Astoria as well as being a private person in general, "we never had sex to begin with. Actually, we had sex once. To conceive Scorpius. It wasn't the kind of marriage you and Ginny have. _Had_."

"I don't… understand. You loved your wife."

"I did. I still do. But—" Draco turned to Harry now, "—we were both not capable of loving each other… _in that way_. We loved each other in every other way though. It was real and intense. Just because we didn't want to have sex with each other doesn—"

"I get it, Draco. No need to defend yourself," Harry stopped him with a calm voice and Draco hadn't even noticed how riled up he'd become. "You don't need to convince me that you loved your wife. I know. _Believe me_. It's obvious from the way Scorpius has turned out. Only a child who's had the example of parents loving each other as intensely as you and Astoria loved one another would be this—" he was looking for a word and Draco was already holding back the tears, "—full of love."

At that moment, he felt such a strong connection to Harry, it frightened him. He'd only ever felt this way about Astoria and he'd told himself, after her death, that with her dying, his soulmate was gone from the world and nobody would ever again be able to get to him like this.

But there he was. Harry Potter. Talking about Draco and his son with such a loving smile on his face and being able to look into the depth of his heart in a way that sometimes even Draco couldn’t manage to do himself.

And only when Harry audibly held his breath did Draco realise that he hadn't been able to hold the tears back at all.

He felt them dip down into the corner of his mouth, leaving a salty taste on his lips even after he'd wiped them away with the sleeve of his dress shirt.

"Draco," Harry said quietly and Draco looked back at him then. Harry was staring at him wide-eyed and said nothing. There was a weird shimmer in his eyes, or maybe it was just Draco's eyes that were wet and made everything seem different. It made Harry seem like so much more than he'd ever been before. Not just a very attractive man, a good friend and a powerful wizard but a person that Draco couldn't help wanting to get closer to. Wanting to be the only one to get closer to. Be with him. Be his family. Have him. _Love him and be loved by him._

No.

Draco broke their excruciatingly long eye-contact and stood from their table. He felt Harry watch him in wonder as he put on his coat but he didn't say anything.

Draco thought it might be because he had felt it, too.

"You should talk to your wife," Draco said without sparing another look at the man in fear of saying or doing something stupid. "Thank you for inviting me today. I appreciate it."

And with those words, Draco left, feeling Harry's eyes follow him.

◊ ◊ ◊

As much as Draco wanted to avoid Harry, after realising that what he felt for Harry was dangerously close to becoming much more than simple attraction, it was proven to be harder than expected. Especially after their sons finished Hogwarts and immediately announced that they were engaged and would marry as soon as their six-year-long apprenticeships at the Ministry were over.

Draco hadn't really been surprised by this outcome. Scorpius and Albus had always been incredibly into each other. However, it was clear that Scorpius was extremely excited by the prospect of marrying into the Potter-Weasley family, a huge warm family that was willing to welcome him and Draco with open arms. Even more so now than before. For the first few months after their engagement announcement Draco played along and went to the Burrow every single Sunday to eat Molly’s delicious Sunday roast with twenty or so Weasleys. 

But when Harry and Ginny officially broke up a few months later and everybody except for the couple in question was unable to handle the situation of having a failed marriage in the family, Draco started to distance himself a little. It felt wrong to hear so much about Harry's marriage— _ex-marriage_ —when Draco wasn’t even officially a part of the family yet. Also, honestly, it made Draco hope again and Draco didn't want to hope. He had hoped before, for Astoria to not get sick, not to die and leave him. For him to have a happy ending which now, in his mid-40s and alone, he could tell he wasn’t going to get.

He was not going to hope again. It didn't work.

So, he slowly started distancing himself from the family again. At first, instead of joining their family gatherings every Sunday, he joined them every second. And then every third. And then every fourth. Until they stopped inviting him every time and only sent owls when bigger events such as birthdays and other celebrations were coming up.

It was only a couple years later, when Harry sent him an owl and asked him to meet him for dinner in the middle of the week, that Draco couldn’t think of a good excuse to say no and saw Harry again, just the two of them.

"Is something the matter?" Draco asked as he swung his coat around the back of the chair in a Vietnamese Muggle restaurant that Harry had invited him to. "Something about Scorpius?"

Harry's brows knitted together in a questioning smile when he said, "No. I just haven't seen you in a while and thought it'd be nice to catch up." He was looking up at Draco, who had stopped in the middle of making his way to sit down. "Why, do I have to have something important to discuss with you to see you?"

"No, it's just… unusual," Draco said, immediately regretting that he'd agreed to come here without actually asking what this meeting was about. Draco always went out of his way not to see Harry and now he was basically on a date with him. Voluntarily.

And, of course, Harry was wearing his work clothes, except for the robe, as they were in Muggle London, and he looked _good_. 

Draco had a weird thing for men in uniforms.

"How have you been?" Harry asked when Draco had finally sat down and the two of them were looking at the menu, deciding to share a couple of fried rolls as a starter.

"Good. Work is keeping me busy."

"Right, I read in the _Prophet_ that you're making a lot of investments lately. How's that going?"

"Horribly. I've made some miscalculations and lost a ton of money. But my son is marrying into this really rich family so I don't have to worry about his inheritance once I’ve pegged out. Maybe it'll even help business to have his name attached to the family. Scorpius' future father-in-law is a real big fish, you know?" Draco was acting nonchalant but felt Harry smirk at him in amusement from the other side of the table. "How about you?"

Harry sighed and crossed his arms as he leaned back in his chair, still that little mischievous smile on his face when he said, "So my son is getting married to this cute boy but I'm afraid his father is going to try to suck us dry and use our name for his financial business. His family's got a bit of a reputation, you see?"

"Oh, that sounds serious. What kind of reputation?"

"This and that, you know how people talk. The most recent rumour I've heard is that they are related to Veelas, which would explain the blond hair, fair skin and the whole family’s breathtaking beauty."

Draco scoffed, having a hard time trying to hide a smile. Of course, he'd heard that rumour countless times. Even during his time at Hogwarts, other kids had tried to bully him about it. Until they'd learned that there is no bullying Draco Malfoy, that is. Needless to say, the rumours were completely groundless.

"At first I thought it was just gossip but recently I've been feeling very attracted to that family. They're hard not to like, you know? Maybe that’s the Veela allure everybody always warns you about."

Harry was still playing their little game, it was rather obvious, but Draco couldn't help but feel that shimmer of hope again, hope that Harry didn't only mean it in a fun friendly way but in the way that Draco had started to feel towards Harry.

Impossible as that was, however, Draco realised he had to nip it in the bud before his feelings of hope could grow stronger which would result in his getting disappointed. Again.

"Sometimes I wish I had Veela allure. Would help with the business," he said with a small smile and then gestured for the waiter to take their order.

Throughout dinner, despite Draco trying to keep the conversation off of any dangerous territory, he found them falling back into intense conversations after all. At first they talked about work, Quidditch and their kids but, when they had already ordered dessert, Harry started talking about what it felt like to live alone now, after years of living with a big family.

"I have problems falling asleep at night but," he shrugged, "I reckon I didn’t expect it would take years to get used to being alone again. It sucks. How do you do it?"

Draco didn't really know how to answer that question at first, but when he saw that Harry didn't really seem to be waiting for a reply, he dug into his weird mushy rice-banana dessert.

"But I suppose you aren't always alone," Harry suddenly said, after having taken a spoonful of his mango ice cream, "seeing that you bring people home with you sometimes, am I right?"

Draco almost dropped his spoon then and just stared at Harry so casually bringing up something he had told him in drunk confidence that one night years ago. 

He felt a bit baffled because he usually kept such business private but Harry was looking at him now, waiting for a reply. Swallowing—and sweating—Draco said, "It’s not that often. And I don't bring them to the Manor with me."

"Oh, so do you go to their place, then?" Harry asked immediately, as if he had thought of the question before. 

"No, we—" Draco swallowed and tried hard to sound as though the question didn’t bother him the tiniest bit when in reality there was nothing he wanted less to talk to Harry about than his sexual conquests, "—I don't fancy a stranger taking me home, so I usually take them to a hotel."

Harry was listening intently, nodding and then taking another spoonful before he asked, "So, how often do you pick someone up?"

"Very irregularly," was all he said. 

"And how do you go about it? Do you go to a bar and just,.." Harry gestured wildly and then dropped his hands in a loud sigh. "I don't even know how to call it."

"Wait a second," Draco said as he realised what he thought was going on, "are you trying to get tips from me how to pick up women?"

Harry suddenly sat very still and his mouth opened, "No, I mean, Yes, I mean, er, no, not specifically. I am just trying—"

"Trying to have casual sex?"

"No!" Harry shouted and, as other customers stopped their conversations to look at the pair, Harry hid his face in his hands. "No, nothing casual! I don't do that."

It was rather obvious that suddenly, though he had been the one to steer the conversation into this direction, Harry was very embarrassed by it, which Draco almost found a bit cute if it wasn't for the fact that he was also getting uncomfortably jealous at the thought of Harry starting to date again. 

But he had no right to be jealous. He and Harry weren't anything.

"So you want a serious relationship?" he forced himself to ask with a smile, still trying very hard not to seem as stressed as he was about this subject.

"Yes," Harry admitted and dropped his hands almost dramatically before he picked up his alcohol-free cocktail. "But not with just anyone. I've got my eyes on someone." And then he looked up, right at Draco, and for a moment Draco stopped breathing.

Did Harry mean that—

"And that someone is probably really good at flirting and the last time I've tried to flirt with someone, before Ginny and I got together after Hogwarts, I walked into a door and my nose started bleeding. _Yes_ , it was that bad! I've really no idea what I'm doing, so I was hoping you could tell me how to ask someone out on a date without embarrassing myself. You know, so that hopefully we'll end up," he looked away blushing but his eyes kept blinking back towards Draco, "going to a hotel."

Despite not being able to fight off the feelings of jealousy as he got that Harry didn’t mean him, Draco couldn't help but think that this helpless Harry Potter was a rather adorable sight. Draco took another bite from his dessert and watched the redness slowly fade from Harry's face as he, too, started eating again. Maybe it would have been better to let this go because, if he really thought about it, giving Harry tips to go fuck another woman was the last thing Draco wanted to do but also, talking with Harry like this, open and honest, felt nice and teasing Harry had always been one of his favourite things to do.

"So you said you have a special lady in your heart and don't do casual but at the same time you want to take her to a hotel on the first date? Am I getting that right?"

Blushing a bit again, Harry replied, "It's been many, many years, Draco. If I don't get laid soon, my manhood might seriously perish into nonexistence."

"We don't want that," Draco said a bit too seriously, but Harry chuckled. 

"No, we don't." They were looking at each other now, smiling, before Harry's eye twitched a bit and he added, "And, just so we don't misunderstand each other, it's not a lady."

"What's not a lady?" Draco asked.

"The person I'm trying to pick up. It's a man, not a lady." 

And then Draco finally let it happen; his spoon fell to the ground in a loud clunk and people were looking at them again. Harry seemed just as surprised at Draco's strong reaction and he raised an eyebrow.

"Seeing that our gay sons are getting married in a few years, I'm hoping you don't have a problem with that?"

"No." Draco stared back, unable to work out what to do with that new information. "Of course not."

He bent down to pick up the spoon and placed it at the side of the table. His heart was pounding because somehow it was thinking that if Harry liked men too, maybe Draco had a chance after all. But of course his brain knew better than that. There was too much history between them; their sons were engaged. They couldn't possibly— Harry wouldn't ever want to be with him.

"Good," Harry said a bit pointedly and then there was awkward silence. Draco realised that Harry didn't believe him, which made him think that maybe it would be better to let Harry in on the fact that he wasn’t much different.

"It would be very hypocritical of me to judge same-sex couples, seeing that I, too, prefer the company of another man. Not that I’m interested in dating anyone. I just meant sexually."

Surprisingly, Harry did not seem surprised to hear that at all. Instead he just pressed his lips together in a tight smile and said, "Right."

After that they kept making small talk about the food and the unusually cold season before they parted ways with a forced smile on Harry’s lips that made Draco wonder whether he’d said something wrong.

Draco was on his way home when he realised that he hadn't given Harry a single tip on how to have a successful date and Harry hadn't asked again, either.

◊ ◊ ◊

The next time Draco got to be alone with Harry was at Percy’s birthday party and Molly had made a special brew of her famous homemade Schnapps. Making the mistake of letting her refill his cup whenever it was empty, Draco got to find out the hard way that it was very _strong_. So strong that, though Draco liked to gloat about the Malfoys’ high tolerance for alcohol, it hadn’t even taken more than two cups before he’d started to feel the effect of it. 

It was already in the middle of the night and Draco was leaned against the wall at the entrance to the living room as he counted down the seconds until he could finally look back at Harry with a broad drunk smile on his face.

This was actually the day Draco came up with his little 120 Seconds Rule, because he had noticed himself staring at Harry way too much that day. Harry had let his hair grow out and, since the last time they'd seen each other, he’d started to wear it in a messy bun at the back of his head—which was bad for Draco’s sanity because long-haired men made him want to grab them by the hair and do unspeakable things to them. If that wasn’t bad enough already, Harry was wearing a tight black shirt with a V-neck, exposing some of his dark chest hair and Draco couldn’t help but imagine what rubbing his cheek against it might feel like. The tight dark jeans that showed off his muscular thighs and black dress-shoes that gave the whole casual outfit a bit of class also did not help guide Draco’s mind away from less dirty thoughts. Quite the opposite. When he’d first seen Harry that day, as he’d bent over the kitchen table to get that mug of butterbeer from the other side of it, Draco wanted nothing more than to kneel at Harry's feet, spread his plump cheeks apart just so he could run his tongue up his cleft, from his balls to his rim, and then dip inside and taste Harry for the first time ever. 

That was when he’d decided that he needed some mental boundaries. So one glance every 120 seconds it was.

Hours later, he was actually still counting and he’d reached the magical number of 120 again when he looked at Harry once more and realised in shock that he couldn’t remember actually looking away from the man which meant that he'd been staring at him for the past two minutes.

"Oh no," he whispered to himself and quickly moved his head to look at someone else. 

Lily Luna was perched on the seat next to her dad, laughing loudly at whatever her uncle Ron was saying before she suddenly started to gag and then, shocking everybody in the room, hurled all over her father’s lap. Harry, the only person who did not seem to be drunk—and whom Draco refused to look at directly—scolded his daughter before he quickly made his way upstairs, in a hurry to wash the sick off. As Draco did _not_ stare at Harry’s arse as he walked up the stairs, he suddenly started to feel sick from the stench of sick that had made it his way. 

He forced himself to exhale and inhale deeply as his eyes landed on his son, who was furiously snogging Albus in the corner of the room while straddling his lap, and it was then that Draco realised that there was already a huge bulge in his pants and probably had been there since he’d watched Harry be gorgeous on the other side of the room. 

God, Draco was a mess. Time to go home.

Draco pushed himself from the wall and stood on shaky legs as he staggered towards the kitchen cabinets, where he knew Molly and Arthur kept some sober-up potions. There was no way he would use the Floo in such a drunken state, so he was fumbling for the sober-up, uncorking it with a weak grip before he downed it and then suddenly the world seemed normal again. 

His cock, however, was still hard. _Fuck!_

For the occasion, Draco had made the poor choice of wearing casual Muggle clothes, which meant that he was wearing a tight pair of jeans and a dress shirt that did not cover up his hard cock in the slightest. He was going to have to take care of this in the bathroom before he could leave because there was a good chance that at least one person would notice if he walked to the Floo in this condition.

Fifty-year-old Draco Malfoy, wearing Muggle clothes and about to masturbate in the bathroom of the Weasleys, his future in-laws. Oh, Lucius would be so proud!

Draco went up the stairs, careful that nobody was looking his way as he walked past them. To his luck, most of the family were gathered in the garden anyway, lying on the grass and enjoying the view of the night sky, so Draco would be safe and undisturbed in the upstairs bathroom.

Or so he thought.

When he opened the door to the bathroom, he was immediately hit with hot steam that was coming out of it and then to his total surprise a voice shouted, "Occupied!" 

"Apologies!" Draco called back but just when he was about to shut the door again, the water of the shower was turned off and, as the steam evaporated, Draco saw Harry’s head stick out from behind the shower curtain.

"Draco?" he asked with huge wondering eyes, "What are you doing here? Do you need to use the loo or—" Harry stopped talking when his eyes dropped down to—

Oh dear God.

"It's the alcohol!" Draco tried to explain quickly, though of course he was lying and they both knew it, "When I've had too much to drink, I get—”, he looked down at the tent in his trousers and then up at Harry again, sighing, "—very bad at making excuses."

"Yes, I can see that," Harry said with a chuckle and then he grasped for a towel and suddenly, without any warning, stepped out of the shower. Draco looked away pointedly, though of course Harry had already covered himself up and was laughing at Draco's reaction. "Nothing you haven't seen before here."

"I am pretty sure I have never seen you naked before," Draco said a bit hysterically and was wondering whether that sober-up potion had even worked properly because usually a naked man did not manage to get him this riled up. But then again, he’d never been able to have any normal thoughts or reactions when it came to Harry Potter.

"Not me, but other men, I understand?" Harry sounded teasing and Draco rather felt their roles were reversed compared to the last time they had talked over dinner, when Harry had asked Draco for dating tips and not been able to utter a single sentence without blushing. 

Again, years had passed since then, though it didn’t feel like it because, as you got older, time just passed much quicker. Harry hadn't ever mentioned the subject again. It made Draco wonder whether he'd succeeded in getting that lucky bloke he’d had his eyes on into bed.

"Would you mind, Draco?" Harry was gesturing for Draco to close the door. Embarrassed that he hadn’t even noticed how rude he’d been, Draco quickly stepped inside as he pressed the door shut behind him so that the warm air couldn't escape.

Then he looked at Harry, who had stopped drying his hair with a second towel and was just staring at Draco as if there was something on his face.

All the while, Draco was having a very hard time not staring at Harry's wet hairy chest or at his sharp hip bones exposed right above the tiny white towel or his strong thick thighs with droplets running down his calves and to his feet, making Draco even more hard than he already was. Again, the 120 Seconds Rule was not working and Draco wondered how he'd even got into this situation in the first place.

And why was Harry still looking at him like that?

"Draco, you," he finally started and his arms fell to his side; his eyes kept glancing down towards Draco's crotch and then back up as if he just couldn't _not_ look. Just like Draco. "To be honest, I didn't mean you should come inside when I asked you to close the door."

"Oh," Draco said before he felt reality suddenly hit him and he realised what an idiot he was. He was already stepping back, desperately picking his brain for a logical excuse that would explain his confusing behaviour, when Harry suddenly stopped him by wrapping his fingers around Draco's wrist.

His heart skipped a beat.

"Draco, wait!" Harry said meaningfully and then he bit his lip. Clearly, Harry wasn't angry at Draco at all. Quite the opposite, Draco found when he looked down at the man and found his towel almost falling to the ground with the tent having formed underneath it. "Actually, I don't mind if you… stay."

And that was that.

If Draco had actually managed to count this time, he wouldn’t even have reached two between the time it took for him to close the distance between them, rip the towel off of Harry's body and then— _finally!_ —smash their lips together.

Harry moaned when their tongues met and desperate hands came to claw into the sides of Draco's shirt as Draco's ran down his back forcefully until he reached Harry's buttocks and was grabbing each cheek with such force, Harry sucked in a loud breath.

"Wait, what if someone—" Harry started but Draco shut him up with his lips again, so much desperation and force in every single movement of his, he'd never felt himself act like this before. Never felt this desperate to fuck someone as he felt right now with a naked and wet Harry Potter in his arms.

Their cocks were brushing together and Harry seemed to have forgotten everything he’d been about to say when hurried hands opened Draco's jeans and Harry pulled them off roughly, followed by his pants.

"You look so sexy in Muggle clothes," Harry growled under his breath as he went down on his knees and pulled all the fabric off Draco, who was balancing with his hands on Harry's shoulders as he let the man pull the pant legs off his feet together with his shoes and socks.

"Sexier than now?" Draco asked in a breath and looked down at Harry who was now face to face with Draco's penis, mouth a bit open as he stared at it for a tad too long. Draco imagined pushing forward, watching the head of his cock slide between Harry's thick plump lips. "Harry?"

"No," Harry finally replied and he shook his head before he got up again without even giving the tip a kiss or a single lick. There was a tug on his shirt and Draco pulled up his arms so that Harry could slip the last piece of fabric off of his body as well. The other man immediately put his hands on Draco’s naked chest, making Draco shiver at the coldness his wet hands left on him at the same time as Draco felt himself getting hotter and hotter. “I’ve never found you more sexy than now.”

It was Harry who stepped forward this time, until their naked bodies were pressed flush together and their tongues were intertwined again. Draco’s hands immediately searched for Harry’s ridiculously fit arse again and, as he squeezed, Harry’s nails bored into his shoulder blades and he ground down hard against Draco’s front with a loud moan.

“You like that?” Draco breathed against his mouth, squeezing harder, fingertips pressing right inside the crease of Harry’s arse, not yet touching the place Draco, oh, so wanted to be buried inside.

“That doesn’t even fucking begin to describe it,” Harry moaned before Draco boldly moved one of his fingers to Harry’s clean hole and he pressed the tip of it inside. He knew he was going way too fast but it felt as if this was something he’d been waiting to do for decades, imagined doing just as long, and honestly, Draco felt that if he didn’t use this opportunity, he would regret it for the rest of his life.

“Fuck, _yes_!” Harry moaned quietly when Draco put his finger deeper inside, curling it just so at where he was sure Harry’s prostate must be located.

But apart from being overly mesmerized with the situation, let alone randy, Draco was surprised to feel that Harry’s hole was soft and stretched.

“Did you—” he started as he easily slipped his second finger inside and Harry bit his lip as another loud moan escaped him and he started moving his hips against Draco’s rapidly as if he was close to orgasm already, “Did you touch yourself here in the shower?” Draco asked in a breath, feeling himself get much more horny as he imagined what Harry had probably been up to until only a few minutes ago.

“Yes,” the quivering man in his arms admitted immediately before he looked up at Draco, “Please, Draco, can we—”

“You don’t need to ask,” Draco only said in response before he groaned into another messy kiss and twisted his long fingers inside of Harry, who immediately bucked forward and clenched around Draco’s fingers.

When Draco pulled away this time, he only did it to take Harry by the hips and turn him around to lean against the basin. “Have you done this before?” Draco asked as he watched Harry’s reflection in the mirror in front of them. He was breathing heavily, watching Draco’s face for a reaction when he nodded. Draco wondered when and how but he didn’t ask, he didn’t want to get jealous now or think about Harry with other men when he was about to do this with him. Be with him for the first time since he’d started dreaming about this in his twenties.

Draco stepped back only for a second to retrieve his wand from the abandoned jeans on the floor. He murmured some spells, lube and protection, before he lined himself up with Harry’s hole. One last searching look between the two of them in the mirror and a nod from Harry, and then Draco was pushing forward, slowly, carefully, feeling every millimetre more intensely than he’d ever felt anything before as he slipped into the silky warmness of Harry’s hot wet arse.

All the while he was watching Harry’s face in the mirror, his eyes having shut and his mouth opening as he moaned at the feeling of getting filled slowly but completely. Until Draco was balls deep inside of Harry and leaning forward as the clench around his cock was a bit hard to bear.

He was unable to move, the sensation too much at the moment. He felt as if he was in his twenties again, banging someone in the bog at some gay bar, except that this meant much more to him than any fuck ever had.

Because it was Harry Potter he was fucking.

“Move, come on,” Harry begged hurriedly, pushing his butt out a bit and Draco sucked in a deep breath before he started. 

Usually, he was a gentle lover, or so he’d been told. He rarely did things hard or hurried because the few times he actually had sex he’d always wanted to treasure it, make sure he could remember it in desperate times of need. But this time he couldn’t really control himself. His hips were pistoning with such speed and force, Harry was moaning loudly, too loud if he’d been able to think straight, and his hips kept crashing forward against the basin, probably uncomfortably. However, Harry didn’t say so. He didn’t ask Draco to stop or slow down, instead, he was shouting, “Yes,” and “Oh god,” and “There, there!” while Draco fucked him harder and harder, with Harry’s tight walls clenching around him just right. Draco’s hands were on Harry’s sides the whole time, until he moved one up to Harry’s hair and grabbed at it hard, to have a better hold on him, to push harder and faster as he felt his orgasm approaching.

“I’m gonna come,” Draco moaned as he felt the sensation starting to heat in his groin and his knees getting weak.

“Me too, fuck, don’t stop,” Harry moaned back while he was fisting his own cock with rapid movements. Before either of them came, Draco leaned forward, pressing his whole body against Harry’s and started grinding down so that they were now moving together as one, their heads searching for each other so that their mouths met in the middle and they kissed, wet and furious.

Harry came first, moaning into Draco’s mouth, unable to kiss him back as Draco licked against his lips and then finally came too, with Harry milking him just right until he could hardly hold them up any more and his hands had to grasp the sides of the basin so he wouldn’t fall.

They were both breathing heavily, Draco still draped over Harry’s back with their bodies sticking together, wet and hot. He pulled back a little so he could slip out and Harry made a little sound at the feeling before he started to chuckle as he put a hand to his lower back.

“I’m definitely too old for this position, _god_!” he laughed and started hitting the side of his hip with his fist. Draco patted his fist away softly and used his thumb to massage the place that Harry had been trying to soothe.

They looked at each other in the mirror once more and, now that Draco was finally able to start thinking straight again, he felt almost in trance, in absolute disbelief of what had just happened between them. He’d always imagined that if he and Harry would have sex, their first time would be slow and romantic and everything Draco had ever wished for. However, instead he felt almost a bit disappointed that they’d been so out of their mind lusty for each other that they hadn’t been able to savour the moment.

“Thanks,” Harry said and Draco wasn’t sure what he was thanking him for. 

“Oh, you know me. Always happy to help out someone in need,” Draco said anyway, an awkward smile on his lips as he kept his hands moving, his wet cock still pressed against the other side of Harry’s hip. He watched Harry’s face in the mirror as his smile faded and he simply nodded.

They were still calming down from the urgency of their fuck when Draco started to feel awkward at the silence after the storm. A bit uncomfortably, he finally asked, “Care for another shower?” He was starting to feel a bit disgusting now as the stickiness started to turn dry.

“Definitely,” Harry said in a clear voice and then stepped forward to turn the water on again as he gestured for Draco to follow him into the shower.

◊ ◊ ◊

After that they got dressed and went back down to the party. Nobody seemed to have noticed them gone and, after saying goodbye to everybody, Draco flooed home. His initial disappointment quickly faded as he started to realise what had actually happened to him and shock quickly turned into excitement. He was lying in his bed now, in clean pajamas, with his heart beating out of his chest still, as he thought back to how it had felt to hold Harry in his arms. _Finally_.

But though the positive emotions were outweighing everything else, _something_ felt weird about all of this. They hadn’t… talked about it afterwards. Hadn’t said what this was, whether it had meant anything or would happen again. Of course, to Draco it had meant _everything_ and he wished it could happen again right this second, but somehow, after getting out of the shower, he’d had the feeling that Harry had been a bit let down. In a different way than Draco had.

Had Draco not done a good job? Usually his lovers left him very satisfied, though he had admittedly done things very differently with Harry this time.

Maybe, Draco realised after paying it enough thought, Harry was just freaked out about having fucked the father of his soon-to-be son-in-law which, honestly, Draco couldn’t blame him for. He had always feared that his son’s relationship with the Potter boy could be an obstacle that stood between him and Harry ever actually getting together. But they’d already had sex and, if both of them didn’t care enough about their sons’ relationship to stop themselves from having sex, Draco felt they would be able to overcome everything else.

If Harry wanted to, that was.

Because Draco knew that Harry had someone he had his eyes on. However, based on the fact that Harry had told him that he wasn’t into casual sex, there was a possibility that the person he was into was Draco. Sure. But it also could be someone completely different. Just because Harry had made the first step today, made the first advances by holding Draco back from leaving the bathroom, didn’t mean that he wanted to be with Draco that way. Maybe the urge to fuck had outweighed his dislike for hookups. 

Draco felt confused and, though he knew that he was overthinking things again, as that was one of his worst attributes, he couldn’t help but feel nervous.

Instead of thinking of more horror scenarios, however, Draco decided to just go to bed that evening and… wait. Give Harry some time and wait for his the next owl to invite him to another dinner and then they could talk about what this was, what was going to happen next, how _they_ could work with their sons getting married.

For now, Draco was sure he just had to be patient.

◊ ◊ ◊

Patient, he was. For weeks. For months, but Harry, very unlike himself, didn’t write to him again after the birthday party. He also did not appear at the next two Weasley celebrations that Draco forced himself to attend just so he could see and talk to Harry.

Harry had suddenly become a very hard person to meet and it didn’t take Draco long to realise what this meant.

He regretted having had sex with Draco to a point where he didn’t even want to see him anymore. Leaving out the fact that Harry obviously didn’t want to be in a relationship with Draco, either, he also didn’t seem to want to be friends with Draco any more. And there was nothing Draco could do but accept that. He wasn’t going to beg. Because just like hoping, begging wouldn’t get him what wasn’t possible.

And so Draco gave up on Harry Potter, but with a heavy heart. 

Draco had learned that whatever curveball life threw at him, he was going to be fine. He’d survived a war, lost his wife and been without Harry his whole life. This one fuck in the bathroom in the middle of the night wouldn’t make his life any harder than it had already been.

There was nothing Draco Malfoy couldn’t handle… right?

◊ ◊ ◊

It had been a rather long time since Draco had started watching Harry from afar after the ceremony. The other man was now sitting by the bar, talking to a Weasley—Draco couldn't tell which one from behind. Harry was wearing a black suit, a Muggle suit that was cut to fit snugly around his whole body. The trouser legs were riding up his calves, revealing yellow socks that matched the colour of his tie and pocket square and gave delicious contrast to his light brown skin and raven black hair. Making his eyes glimmer greener than ever, the combination reminded Draco of a field of sunflowers. As well as that time almost a year ago now when Harry’s body had been pressed against his in the Weasley’s bathroom, their skins in such beautiful contrast to each other.

He wanted to approach but he was wigging out, especially when the Weasley who turned around happened to be George, of all people. He suddenly showed Draco a wide grin and he had no idea whether that was because, just like Scorpius and Albus, George knew about their hookup or because it was just George being George.

A few seconds later, Harry moved to look at what George seemed to be preoccupied with and, when he saw Draco he blushed and quickly turned away again. Draco watched George put his hand on Harry’s shoulder and whisper something before he swung himself off of the bar stool and walked off, but not without giving Draco a wink.

Crikey.

Draco approached slowly and sat down at the bar without looking at Harry—not because it hadn’t been 120 seconds but because it felt impossible to use that rule when he was actually going to talk to the man. About important issues.

“So,” Draco said first and then motioned for the bartender to give him one of the drinks Harry was having, “apparently people are talking about how we fucked like rowdy teenagers at Percy’s last birthday party.”

Harry sighed. “Yes, _fuck_ , I’m so sorry. I didn’t want to tell them but our sons filled me up and kept asking me questions and you know how talkative I get whenever I have a drink.”

“You just told them,” Draco spat and added a whispered, “ _in detail._ ”

“Fuck,” Harry said again, and this time it was he who was unable to look at Draco as he held both hands to his eyes and started rubbing.

“I can’t believe that you have the nerve to avoid me _for a year_ and then go around and tell people—No, not just people. _Our family!_ —how I fucked you against a basin.”

Draco realised that he’d got a bit louder and he watched the bartender trying to hide an amused smile but failing as he handed Draco his drink. At this point, though, Draco didn’t care who else found out. He wouldn’t be surprised if everybody at this bloody wedding knew anyway. If _George_ knew, it was only a question of hours anyway.

“It’s clear that you regret having had sex with me and that you’re dealing with some issues there but that doesn’t give you the right to go around and tell people about us.” Draco knew that he was repeating himself. He knew that he was giving off a really bad vibe but as he was talking to Harry, he felt that if he didn’t say all of this now, Harry might not give him another opportunity. “And then Scorpius told me that you actually want to be with me. I don’t know what to believe any more.”

Harry looked up at him now, his eyes wide, “Scorpius told you that? That was supposed to be private.”

“Oh, you’re _not_ in a position to complain about your privacy being disregarded,” Draco scoffed and then took a long sip from his pint. He was angry as well as completely nerve-wracked about what their conversation might lead to with Harry having basically just admitted that what Scorpius had told him—about Harry wanting to be with him—was true.

“I know,” Harry breathed. “I’m sorry.” He looked and sounded sincere, though Draco was waiting for him to say more, to keep talking. But he didn’t and Draco knew that, if he kept waiting for an explanation, there was a good chance that nothing would come because he had already waited for a year and Harry seemed to be really shit at this whole being-honest-about-his-feelings deal. Not that Draco was very good at it either, not having had the guts to approach Harry on his own, but one of them just _had_ to make the first step here. Otherwise they were probably facing another 30 years of being apart despite feeling _something_ for each other.

Draco didn’t want that.

“Harry,” he said, determined, his knuckles turning white around his glass, “Do you want to be with me? Yes or No?”

He saw Harry’s adam’s apple bob up and down as he swallowed and then breathed a quiet, “ _Yes_.”

Heart clenching, Draco asked, anger in his voice, “Then why, for Merlin’s sake, have you been avoiding me for the past year?”

Scoffing, Harry asked, “What kind of a stupid question is that?” He sounded angry as well when he continued, “That night you only fucked me to help me out of my dry spell. Why in the world would I have contacted you again after that when you knew that I didn’t want casual sex? You made it very clear that was all you were willing to give me.”

“ _What_?” Draco spat, confused and unbelieving, “I never said such a thing!”

“Yes, you did! I very clearly remember you telling me that you were ‘always happy to help someone in need’.”

“Yes,” Draco shouted, whipping his hands up in the air, “When I said that I was talking about giving you a massage because your hip was hurting. I didn’t mean the sex!” He was shivering now, frustrated and unbelievably mad at having missed a year of their life they could have been together because of a misunderstanding like this. One that could have been resolved with one conversation if Harry hadn’t refused to talk it out. If Draco had just approached him first. “I fucked you because I wanted to do it. Have been wanting to do it for years!”

At that Harry was quiet, his mouth hung open as he stared at Draco until he finally swallowed again and whispered in disbelief, “What?”

Frustrated, Draco turned his whole body towards Harry and grabbed him by the shoulders before he said strongly, while looking him right in the eyes, “I want to be with you, you utter knobhead.”

A moment of silence followed, in which Harry was giving him that confused look again that Draco recognised from so many other occasions. Harry was blinking and then he bit his lower lip before he finally let out one long shaky breath that Draco noticed he’d been holding.

“What about you?” Draco asked then, though he had already asked that question and knew the answer. But he needed to hear it again, see Harry say it as he looked him in the eyes. No more misunderstanding. “Do you want to be with me?”

“Yes!” Harry replied instantly and then his hands came up to grab Draco by the elbows and pull his arms from his shoulders, “I do. I really really do.” And then he stood from his bar stool and closed the distance between them, pressing their lips together. Draco responded immediately, opening his mouth to Harry’s tongue as he impatiently shoved it into Draco’s mouth. As they kissed, all tension seemed to leave Draco’s body and he started to chuckle.

Harry pulled back because he was unable to kiss someone who was laughing.

“We’re really doing this,” Draco said in disbelief as he watched Harry’s wet lips pull into a small smile. “Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter. Dating. Being together. Imagine the headlines!”

“Are you sure you’re ready, though? For a real relationship?” Harry looked a bit unsure but his hand came up to stroke Draco’s cheek, “Throughout all of our conversations, I always got the feeling you weren’t over your wife yet. I don’t want to push you into committing to—”

“Harry,” Draco stopped him and he felt so much love for Harry at that moment again because he finally understood that the person Harry had always been talking about wanting had been him as well. “Astoria will always hold a place in my heart, but to begin with, my heart has been yours for a long time.”

“Urgh,” Harry made in the back of his throat, his face flinching together before he said, “that was cheesy. Didn’t know you were such a sweet talker, Draco.” 

At that, Draco pulled a brow up, at which Harry started laughing again and finally decided, “But you know what? I’ll gladly take it.”

**Author's Note:**

> This work is a part of an anonymous fest and the creator will be revealed no later than March 30. Please comment here or at [our community on Dreamwidth.](https://hp-goldenage.dreamwidth.org/78147.html) Thanks! ♥


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